Domus Discordia Chapter 40

Thunder rolled, filling the air with its resonant timbre. It was repeated a second later and again with mechanical precision. The source of this calamity was Honourable Ajax, who was beating his great fist upon the Adamantium doors of the grand council chamber. Those barriers were weighty and thick, built to keep out an army, but Ajax didn't seem to care. Again and again, he battered at the doors, seemingly intending to keep going until the doors gave way or his fist wore away to nothing.

Standing well back from the irate Dreadnought, Captain Toran watched waited with two squads of Tactical Marines, along with, Furion, Novak, Persion and Captain Hakulo. The party had tracked the footsteps of Lessall, who had fled the battle outside the Forge's doors, leaving his Marines to die. Toran was still amazed by the event, the rampaging Dreadnoughts ending the whole war in under five minutes.

Yet the outcome had been one he had never expected: the True Believers had surrendered. Toran had witnessed it with his own eyes and still didn't believe it. Yet the strangest thing of all had been Wrethan, he had seemed almost happy to be defeated and had not resisted when they clapped him in chains.

The Primarch's Own had been unsure what to do with their unexpected captives and in the end Toran had settled on leaving them under the watchful eyes of the other Dreadnoughts. He had also left their sole Honour Guard behind, to make sure that nobody took it into their heads to slit the prisoners' throats. Apothecary Memnos had also insisted on staying behind, to keep as many of the injured alive as he could, a point Toran hadn't cared enough about to argue.

Thus Toran had led the pursuit of Lessall, following his tracks easily to the grand council chamber. Meanwhile he had dispatched Terminator Sergeant Orath to seize control of the interior defences. The last thing they needed was for Lessall to level the whole Fortress-Monastery in an act of petty spite. Nimodes had departed too, claiming he had to go and find Jediah and from his tone Toran didn't hold out any hope his Brother was still alive.

Toran was distracted as Persion remarked between thunderclaps, "Is it just me or is Ajax angrier than usual?"

Everybody looked at the Dreadnought, whose fist was still battering at the doors as he bellowed, "GET OUT HERE AND FACE ME, YOU FECKLESS COWARD!"

"The word apocalyptic doesn't cover it," Furion stated, "By the Maelstrom, what did you tell him?"

Toran answered hesitantly, "I may have told him what we uncovered in the Apothecarion…"

"Throne's sake," Novak muttered, "We will be scraping Lessall's remains off the walls."

Once more Ajax struck the Adamantium doors, causing wide cracks to run through the thick stonework around the hinges. The doors were swaying under every blow now as Ajax roared, "MURDERER OF CHILDREN!"

Furion turned to Toran and said, "Captain, we must temper his wrath, Lessall must live to stand trial."

"Trial?" Novak spat, "You would give him the dignity of a trial? He doesn't deserve one, I want to peel off his skin and hang him upside down over an open fire."

Hakulo concurred, "We should cut off his eyelids and then his ears and then his fingers and toes. Inch by inch, take him apart and then reconstruct him with servitor parts so we can do it all over again."

Toran found absolutely nothing wrong with that idea but Furion rebuked, "Are our shames not great enough already without you adding to our ignominy?! We are honourable warriors, we do not indulge in petty torture, we take no pleasure from pain and suffering. The Primarch wrote that justice cannot be accomplished in secrets and shadows; it must be seen to be done, out in the open. Justice must be clean and impartial, not sordid and base."

Toran wasn't convinced but he said, "You can try to persuade Ajax if you will, but I doubt he will listen."

The doors were quivering under Ajax's blows now, stone dust spilling from the widening cracks in the supports. Then Ajax raised his fist high and cried, "YOUR DOOM IS AT HAND!" as he struck one last time. The doors collapsed under the titanic blow, falling inwards as their supports crumbled and gave way. With that Ajax charged into the grand council chamber, followed closely by the Initiates.

Toran had expected to find Lessall plotting one last scheme, he had expected a trap or a deadly snare but what he found instead baffled him. The grand council chamber was almost empty and Lessall himself was slumped in the Chapter Master's chair. He was surrounded by piles of empty bottles and bore a glazed look upon his face. Toran was dumbfounded; was this really the wicked architect of all their woe, drinking himself into a pathetic stupor?

Even Ajax barked in confusion, "WHAT IS THIS FARCE?!"

Lessall woozily looked up and his face was pale as he called, "Forgive me, for not standing; I'm not sure I can."

Toran marched angrily forward and barked, "Are you… drunk?"

Lessall snorted and murmured , "Of course I am, though I had to take some implant suppressants first. What did you expect: to find me trying to blow up the island? To be escaping in a gunship, swearing a fiendish revenge?"

Toran barked indignantly, "Have you no pride?"

Lessall took a long pull from a bottle in one hand and then slurred, "What's the point? I am defeated; I was defeated before I even started."

Testily Ajax growled, "YOU ARE A PATHETIC WRETCH."

Lesssall's face was going waxy and he said, "I suppose that is how history will remember me, the megalomaniacal villain. But it wasn't supposed to be like this at all, it was supposed to be beautiful. I was going to make the Chapter strong and free, I was going to raise us up to our proper station, it should have been glorious."

"Don't peddle your delusions here," Furion snarled in disgust.

Lessall seemed to be getting limper as he expounded, "Don't pretend any of you genuinely care for the High Lords, you've all seen their failures. We could have done so much better than they did, we could have become what they were meant to have been. I told Gorgall that, so many times, but he wouldn't listen. If only he had listened, none of this bloodshed would have been necessary. I got impatient, I moved too soon and that was my downfall."

"Enough," Toran barked, "You are defeated."

"Oh, I was defeated before I even started," Lessall slurred, then he waved his other hand which held a data-slate, "My Empire was killed with a simple message. I knew the second I read it that my dream was dead, that there was no point to any of this. My Empire was stillborn the second he woke up. If only I'd known this earlier, I never would have dared to challenge him for supremacy."

Stonily Furion declared, "You are under arrest, you will be dragged from this place to face justice for your crimes."

Surprisingly Lessall sneered, "Oh, I'm sure you have some very inventive executions in mind. Something involving fire and knives and that pet savage of yours, but I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. I will be the arbiter of my own fate and I have decided to skip the inevitable torture and die on my own terms."

Toran started in surprise and barked, "What have you done?!"

"Why did you assume," Lessall slurred, "This was only wine?"

Swiftly Persion snatched up an empty bottle, he sniffed it and hissed, "Poison!"

"No!" Novak barked in outrage, "Poison doesn't work on Astartes; you don't get to die that easily!"

But Lessall was going grey already and slurred, "I am… an Apothecary and I know our limitations… it just takes a lot of poison that's all. It's not completely painless… but it's still better than what you would do to me. But to think… I could have seen him… if only I had been a little more patient…"

Then Lessall keeled over and stopped breathing as the data-slate slid from his hands. Hakulo stomped forward and roared, "No! He has to suffer for what he's done! He doesn't get to die so quickly!"

Novak hissed, "Revive him, bring him back, so we can kill him again!"

Yet Furion rebuked them, "He's dead already. Stop demeaning yourselves and act with some dignity!"

Ajax rumbled "HE IS RIGHT, DO NOT LET THIS FILTH MAKE YOU BEHAVE LIKE GUTTER TRASH. YOU ARE NOBLE ASTARTES, ACT LIKE IT."

Toran breathed out slowly and said, "Lessall is dead, nothing else matters. We shall strip his armour and throw the body into the ocean. Leave his Gene-seed to rot; Lessall shall have no legacy, let that be punishment enough."

As Lessall's corpse was dragged away by a couple of Initiates, Novak frowned and asked, "What was he was drivelling on about?"

Let me check," Persion said, scooping up the discarded data-slate. He started to idly peruse the contents but then he frowned. Persion peered closer and then gasped as he frantically scrolled the contents, like a man who couldn't believe his own eyes.

Toran frowned and said, "Persion, what is it?"

Persion was desperately reading the slate, over and over as if looking for a mistake and he muttered, "It can't be, it can't be. This is impossible."

"Persion!" Toran called, "Speak to us."

Persion looked up and stammered, "It's that message from Terra, the Librarians finally finished decoding it… He is awake!"

"Not you too," Hakulo muttered, "Just tell us what it says."

Persion could only exclaim, "He is on Terra, he's gone to Terra!"

Suddenly Ajax stamped his foot, sending vibrations up everybody's legs as he growled, "IF YOU DON'T START MAKING SENSE RIGHT NOW I WILL BECOME ANGRY WITH YOU, YOU WOULDN'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M ANGRY."

Persion gathered himself up and started again saying, "Primarch… the Primarch is awake."

Toran felt his guts instantly tense up and a feeling of dread steal over him at the very thought. Primarchs; the gene-sire of the Adeptus Astartes and ultimate embodiments of the Emperor's designs. Half of them had been enslaved by Chaos and become monstrous nightmares, Daemon Princes of the Warp. Every time one of those abominations had left the Immaterium it had been a time of woe and suffering for all mankind, worlds had burned and billions of widows had wept at their passing.

Hakulo was going pale as he stammered, "Oh throne no, not them… anyone but them."

Furion gulped and dare to ask, "Which one is it: Magnus, Mortarion, Fulgrim… Angron?"

But Persion was shaking his head saying, "No, you don't understand, I don't mean a Traitor Primarch. It's not just any Primarch; it's the Primarch, OUR Primarch. Roboute Guilliman has risen from the Temple of Correction; he walks among the stars once more!"

Every jaw fell at that pronouncement and stunned disbelief was on every face as Novak exclaimed, "This is a joke, it must be a joke".

Hakulo looked gobsmacked as he agreed, "This can't be real."

Persion hastily explained, "It's marked with the seals of the Adeptus Terra, the Fabricator-General, the Inquisition, the Ecclesiarch and the Captain-General of the Custodian Guard." Toran snatched the data-slate from Persion's hand and frantically scrolled through it, looking for a mistake. Yet it was all there, in glowing letters, the facts laid bare for his eyes to read.

Utterly astonished Toran recited aloud, "In the name of the God-Emperor, vigilant and protective, one majesty everlasting. Let it be known that the Primarch Roboute Guilliman, Lord of Ultramar, Avenging Son and Eagle of the East, has returned unto humanity in its hour of greatest need. In a personal audience with the God-Emperor of Mankind, the Thirteenth Primarch has been granted supreme authority over all Imperial armed forces and civil institutions. Hereby the High Lords of Terra vote unanimously to appoint Roboute Guilliman to the joint offices of Imperial Regent and Lord of Commander of the Imperium, investing him with all the rights and privileges so entailed. Let all dominions and principalities, all Lords Militants, Admirals, Archmagi, Planetary Governors, Chapter Masters and all other personages of rank, attend upon this ordination and render unto this office such succour and fealty as they would unto the God-Emperor himself. For so he is the instrument and proxy of the Golden Throne."

Absolute silence reigned as everybody stood in dumbstruck awe, every soul struggling to process the concept. Nobody was able to say a single word and all they could do was stand there, mouths agape as everything they had ever known was rescinded and a new reality formed around them.

A life filled with wonder and hope.